Sunday, December 5, 2010

Airborne, my light blue heron Sharkskin disappeared into the thick, falling snow; slate grey strand invisible against the backdrop of heavy, leaden skies and white-coated tree branches. Without visual cues, the other senses are enjoined – feeling the flex of the rod, hearing the textured line whisper through iced stainless steel guides, sensing the gentle rhythms of the slow, steady tick-ticking metronome that is the cast.

The true worth of fishing, as the experienced, sophisticated angler comes to realize, lies in the memorable contacts with people and other living creatures, scenes and places, and the living waters great and small which it provides.

Sparse Grey Hackle

Worth Your Time

Mouthful of Feathers:The inexorable tanLet us not mourn Summer for Fall awaits. And as surely as seasons change, Tom Reed delivers the perfect eulogy.

Mike's Gone Fishin' In Other Places

It's always a pleasure to sneak a piece into this fine publication. Summer edition 9.4. Go out and get one. Now.

My Favorite Posts

We all have our favorites. Here's a few of mine from over the years. Hope you enjoy(ed) them too.